


lament of the lovelorn

by anthropologicalhands



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Character Study, F/F, Forbidden Love, Possibly Unrequited Love, Post-Canon, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-29
Updated: 2014-12-12
Packaged: 2018-02-27 10:01:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2688671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anthropologicalhands/pseuds/anthropologicalhands
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liara is unlucky with love. But love she will.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. the loves of liara t'soni

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know where this pairing came from. But poor, poor Liara.

Liara is unlucky in love.

Her first is Shepard. Her feelings are immediate and powerful and left painfully unfulfilled, though in time the deepness of their friendship proves just as sweet as any courtship.

Then there is Feron. His loyalty is absolute, his tongue sharp, and his heart kind. Her affection for him is warm and gentle, and nothing she could ever reveal without feeling as though she is taking advantage of his gratitude. If he suspects her feelings, he is too professional to speak of them. But he never leaves, either. He remains constantly by her side. When she loses him, it is not to torture or an assignment gone wrong but simply the end of his natural lifespan.

Liara loses many to time. Most of the crew of the Normandy, her family forged of fire and trial, pass on before she has even reached her third century. Her only comfort is that their deeds ensure that the galaxy will always remember their names. Despite her continued work as the Shadow Broker, she makes time to visit with Wrex and Grunt—both still standing strong despite time’s ravages—to drink and reminisce. She has precious few friends, and keeps the ones she has left close to her heart.

Samara is not quite a friend, but in some matters, she is the only one to understand Liara. There is peace in her heart and her days are passed at her daughter’s side. Falere has rebuilt the monastery and, for the most part, there is serenity for the new generation of Ardat Yakshi.

Like Liara, Falere is used to studying, the habits of cloistering, and occasionally stumbles over her words in her excitement over the novelty of a fresh face. She is much older than Liara, but in some ways younger as well, asking hundreds of questions about Liara’s research, her adventures—about the world beyond the monastery.

Unsurprisingly, she becomes a friend.

Because Liara has precious new friends, she takes the time to nurture her relationship with Falere. They have more in common than she expects: a shared grief of loved ones lost, a taste for human sushi—at least after Liara sneaks some into the monastery, and a love of knowledge that cannot be quenched.

But the more time they spend together, the more Liara notices other things, as well. The loveliness of her facial markings. The excited gleam of her eyes.

How her smile changes, as they grow closer.

Liara has held ‘pureblood’ as a mantra in the back of her head since she was old enough to understand what an Ardat Yakshi was—knew exactly what would happen if she fell in love with another asari. Falere knows the consequences of indulging her feelings firsthand.

Neither can quite bear to stop smiling at each other, however carefully they maintain the space between them.

Oh, Liara is _unlucky_ in these matters.


	2. to be loved

"I do not think it is wise for us to spend so much time together"

Liara does not realize, at first, that Falere speaks in regards to her own feelings. The twist in her heart is more painful than she expects. But she has been a Shadow Broker for two centuries now—many who knew her name when she was young and awkward are gone, and she is swathed in mystery once again—she knows how to school her face, to keep it neutral and serene.

“Of course,” says Liara, as her heart breaks. “If it is your wish, I will leave at once.” She stands, and gathers up her datapads, keeping her eyes focused the screens. Better to keep her composure.

A pull on the fabric of her sleeve gives her pause; Falere has never moved to touch her.

“It is not my wish,” she says in a rush.

She takes a breath. Liara waits, very aware of Falere’s thumb over her pulse point.

“You must understand,” Falere continues, stammering. “An Ardat Yakshi does not have to be a monster. She can choose. The choice has been made. But she will only ever cause pain. You do not want her love.”

Liara retakes her seat. Falere’s grip is firm, though Liara does not doubt that were she to pull away, the other woman would not cling to her.

“That is not true,” says Liara gently. “The love of a good woman is never a curse.”

Falere’s eyes fill with tears. She releases Liara’s wrist, brings up her hands to scrub at her eyelids.

“I have my mother. I had my sisters, even if they were gone before their time. There are the other girls in the monastery. That is more than I ever needed to be happy. But now there is you.”

She brings her hands back down to her lap. Liara’s throat has closed—should she try to speak she will find herself every bit as tongue-tied as she was when she broke her first century.

Instead—carefully—she reaches out, and places her hand over Falere’s. She does not intertwine their figures, or place any pressure, simply lets it rest there, lightly.

“I am here,” she says. “Whatever you want it to mean.”


End file.
